dom.blog

Grandad

In the early hours of Thursday morning, my grandad died. He was in his 80s, and it wasn’t unexpected, and – thankfully – he was healthier than many others for much of his life. And yet, and yet… still a sad time.

It’s odd, to think about grandparents, given how much they shaped your life long before you were born and yet how removed they are – growing up in another time, another world. It wasn’t until today that I thought that, of course, in my full name I’m actually named after George. And it’s indirect, and fragmentary, but I do feel I can trace parts of me back to him – in who he was, and what he did.

Not in a literal sense, of course: as a working-class builder from Suffolk, he had both the practical skills to do what I still refer to as a ‘proper job’ and the countryside nous to grown his own food in the garden. (Reflect, sadly, that my version of this amounts to cooking my own packets of Dolmio pasta in the microwave.) As a father to my dad, though, he let him make his own decisions – encouraging and supportive – and never became a figure of fear. That’s an ethos that I grew up with, too.

So, goodbye, and thanks

(The funeral’s on Friday – it’ll be good to see family.)

Just had a lovely evening watching The Shadow In The North from Christmas with Irfan (thank you, BBC iPlayer!) which was well worth seeing. (Message to people at home: watch it!) Yes, I’m back in Cambridge, and people have been drifting back over the weekend: Michael arrived today, in lovingly cynical form as usual. Looking forward to seeing Joe and Sophie tomorrow, too! And then term starts properly on the 15th, so hectic work will of course commence… (It should be noted that I do have some leftover hectic work to do in the meantime )

Although I mentioned the banners Lucy and I created to sponsor SexFest 08 at the time, before I left London I met up with Joshua for a lovely pub lunch, and took the opportunity to capture shots of them for posterity. So here they are!

Beautifully modelled, I’m sure you’ll agree

SexFest 08: It’s ironic

They’re a fitting way to remember everyone back home, too. Until I return!